Page 135 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

Flora is wiping down the espresso machine.

She looks up when the bell rings, and I get my answer immediately.

It happens before she smiles, although the smile certainly doesn’t hurt. It’s the small, immediate shift inside me when I see her, like my attention has been waiting all day for somewhere to safely land.

Her hair is pulled back, a few shorter pieces loose around her face, and she’s wearing a black cardigan that drapes off one shoulder beneath her apron. She puts down the cloth.

“Hi.”

One word that makes me feel absolutely ridiculous. I walk up to the counter, her eyes trailing me the whole way.

“I wanted to see you.”

Something in her expression softens.

I keep going before I can decide I need to explain myself.

“I know we’re seeing each other Friday. And technically, I should be going home right now, considering my house is in that direction and I have been thinking about taking my bra off since approximately three thirty. But I got off the bus, and I could see the café, and I wanted to see you more than I wanted to go home.”

Flora watches me through the entire explanation, her smile slowly growing. Then she reaches across the counter and hooks two fingers around mine. “I’m done in, like, ten minutes.”

So I stay.

I take one of the tables near the window while she finishes closing. I reply to two emails, send Veronica a picture of something horrifying Rose has added to our shared grocery list, and occasionally look up to find Flora moving around behind the counter.

Once, she catches me, but I don’t look away.

Eventually, Luis passes Flora with a stack of cups and says something I can’t hear. Flora answers without taking her eyes off me.

Luis follows her gaze. He sees me, shakes his head, and keeps walking.

This is easy. Maybe that’s what’s been bothering me about the assignment.

I expected choosing to feel bigger. The spell has made everything sound enormous so far. Notice. Want. Ask. Choose. Words that belong carved into rocks or whispered by mysterious women in forests.

But maybe choosing Flora is just this. Getting off the bus, crossing the street and staying.

When Flora finally comes out, she’s traded the apron for her coat and has her canvas bag over one shoulder.

I stand, and she walks directly to me, one hand finding my waist before she kisses me. There’s no discussion about what we’re doing after that. We leave The Spindle together, cross at the light, and head to my house as naturally as if we’d made the plan hours ago.

It takes me almost half a block to notice.

I smile, and Flora catches it immediately.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just having a very good day.”

She looks at me, waiting for whatever will inevitably follow. Because she’s learned me well enough to know that much already.

“I stood up to my boss today.”

“Oh, shit, to Hell?”

“Former Hell, potentially? I don’t know, her status is currently unclear.”

That makes Flora laugh, and I slip my hand into hers.